Margaritaville
by megan1300
Summary: No offence Sweetcheeks, but there's four feet of snow out there and you're from the desert." Tony and Ziva are involved in a teeny, tiny little car accident.


**Title:** Margaritaville  
**Chapter:** One-Shot  
**Characters/Pairings:** Tiva  
**Spoilers/Warning:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Tony and Ziva are involved in a teeny, tiny little car accident.  
**Disclaimer: **NCIS and all its characters belong to CBS and Donald Bellsario.  
**Author's Note:** So, I'm not entirely happy with this... Seriously. I don't think it flows all that well and the ending sucks but I really like the first part and it would have been too short without more so I went with it anyway. Oh, and this was inspired by National Lampoon's Vacation (when the car flies off the road and Rusty is soo proud it went like, 50 feet) and the commercial from the new Renne Zellweger movie (drinking while stuck in a snow drift). Let me know what you think.

**Author's Note Part Deux:** I've made a few changes 12/06 to this story here and there. It's been months since I wrote this damn thing and the ending has been driving me crazy all this time. So that's what got the main adjustment. Everything else is still pretty much the same.

* * *

"Ziva!" Tony cried, his grip tightening around the _oh shit!_ handle. "Please slow down!"

"I am in complete control of the vehicle," Ziva told him, her eyes never leaving the icy road.

"No offence Sweet Cheeks," Tony scoffed, "but there's four feet of snow out there and you're from freaking the _desert._"

Ziva rolled her eyes and pressed down hard on the gas. She was just opening her mouth to tell Tony off when the car suddenly hit a patch of black ice. Somehow Ziva managed to keep her composure while the car skidded a full 180 degrees, soared backwards off the country road, and smashed into a very large and deceivably hard pile of snow.

Tony shrieked like a little girl the whole time.

When the car finally came to a complete halt, Ziva's head slowly swiveled to the right. Her mouth, which had been gaping open, closed as she bit her bottom lip and winced at the look on Tony's face. His shocked expression somehow managed to convey rage, astonishment, and a hint of embarrassment all at once. To be honest, she wasn't sure if he was going to scream at her or go into a cardiac arrest.

"Tony?" Ziva whispered carefully after a moment's hesitation. "Tony, are you alright?"

Just as slowly as Ziva had faced him, Tony, too, tilted his head in her direction.

"Tony?"

Tony's jaw began working itself out and after a short while he was able to eep, "Great."

"Good." Ziva nodded stiffly and slowly turned forward again. She let out a deep breath, dropped her forehead against the steering wheel with a thud and muttered, "Gibbs is going to kill me."

Twenty minutes later, Tony was still gripping the _oh shit!_ handle as tightly as possible as Ziva repeatedly punched the gas pedal in a desperate attempt to dislodge the Mini. Unfortunately, she had only managed to deepen the rut.

"Ergh," Ziva growled and pushed back against the seat with a huff. "We're not getting out of here tonight, are we?"

"Nope," Tony deadpanned. He watched her for a moment until he was sure she wouldn't try to smash the gas pedal again or pummel the steering wheel and then cautiously released his death grip on the handle. "Your cell phone still out of range?"

Ziva nodded and looked over at Tony glumly. "So what do we do now?"

"Well," Tony immediately perked. He waggled his eyebrows. "We could always-"

Ziva just rolled her eyes. "Get your mind out the dumpster Tony."

"Gutter," Tony corrected automatically. He nodded at the fuel gauge. "At least we filled up before you managed to nearly kill us."

"It is snow," Ziva argued. "White, fluffy snow. We landed in a pile of fluff."

"I'm pretty sure your whole back-end has been smashed in by that huge pile of fluff." Tony sneered. "But then, cotton balls tend to damage things all the time." He sighed as her face fell. "You still have that bottle of tequila from Abby's last week?"

"Ooh." Ziva automatically perked up and then frowned a second later. "We cannot drink tequila in a car. It's illegal."

"We're probably twenty yards off the road." Tony shrugged. "No one's going to find us until morning anyway."

Ziva seemed to accept his reasoning and nodded resolutely. "It is under your seat, I think."

Tony chuckled and began fishing around under the seat for the bottle. He was just about to give up hope when his hand landed on the plastic bottle. He grinned up at Ziva and sing-songed, "Well hello there Mr. Quervo." He pulled on the bottle and frowned.

"What is it?" Ziva asked, cocking her head.

"It's stuck." Tony tugged at the bottle again and still it didn't move an inch.

"Stuck?" Ziva looked aghast. "What do you mean, stuck?"

"Stuck Ziva," Tony hissed. He tugged and grunted, "Like. It. Won't. Move."

"Well unstick it Tony."

"I can't unstick it," Tony growled. "Ze-vah."

"Here," Ziva rolled her eyes and pushed Tony back in his seat, "let me try."

"Be my guest," Tony scoffed, holding up his hands as Ziva leaned across his lap. He stiffened as she positioned herself so that she was on her knees, butt high in the air with her left arm wedged under the seat and her head in his lap. When her hand wrapped around the bottle she began working it back and forth until she finally managed to pull the tequila free. She turned her head, grinning in triumph, and then realized exactly how close her face was to Tony's crotch.

"Uh," Ziva stammered. She caught Tony's eye and both of them froze for a moment. Then, suddenly, she whipped the bottle out from under the seat and practically leaped back into the driver's side.

"So," Tony said uncertainly after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "Why don't we pop that sucker open, huh?"

Ziva couldn't have agreed more and within seconds she had ripped off the cap and tipped the bottle into her mouth. Once finished, she grimaced and held the bottle out for Tony.

"Radio?" Ziva asked, watching Tony as he downed tequila.

Tony nodded as he pulled the bottle away from his mouth. Ziva clicked on the radio, causing the two partners to grin at each other when the announcer segued into Jimmy Buffett's 'Margaritaville'.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Tony asked as his head bounced from side to side in synch with the music.

Ziva cocked her head, questioningly.

"We're stuck in a _snow drift_ sucking down tequila and listening to Jimmy Buffett." Tony chuckled.

"Better than paperwork, no?" Ziva winked and took another sip of tequila.

"You kidding me?" Tony grinned. "I get to spend my night in close quarters with a very beautiful drunk woman. Nothing could be better than this."

Ziva's lips upturned into a sly grin. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"This is one of those trick questions," Tony eyed her carefully, "isn't it?"

"No," Ziva told him. "It is a simple question."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Fine. I think you're gorgeous." He grabbed the bottle of tequila out of Ziva's hands and flashed her a grin. "Especially when I'm drunk."

Ziva held up the bottle cap and cocked her head curiously. "I wonder how many ways I could kill you with this top." She leaned forward and hissed playfully, "Shall we find out?"

"It's only funny when you _can't_ actually kill me with the object," Tony explained slowly, as if he were speaking with a small child. "Otherwise, it's just scar- Ooh!"

Ziva looked up, surprised, as Tony leaned forward and let his index finger roll across the volume knob on the dash. He leaned back and looked at her expectantly. Not sure of what he wanted her to do, Ziva frowned and yelled over the guitar rift, "What?"

"It's Foreplay!" Tony yelled, eyes wide with excitement.

"Tony, I already told you to get your mind out of the dump-"

"You would get that one." Tony rolled his eyes. "No, the song is called Foreplay. By Boston?" At her bewildered expression he let his head drop back dramatically. "Ziva," he said slowly yet loudly. "Ziva, this," he gestured to the radio, "is the ultimate air guitar song."

And just like that, Ziva understood her partner's excitement. She chuckled as Tony sat up suddenly and assumed the air guitar position. He raised his eyebrows at her and, with an amused sigh, she mimicked his movements. Tony frowned and repositioned her hands (making her laugh even harder) and once he was satisfied he nodded at her solemnly, waited for the perfect entrance, and then began head-banging to the beat as he strummed violently on his 'guitar.'

Ziva quickly followed his lead and then, as the entrance ended, looked up to find Tony had stopped his erratic 'playing' and was staring at her with a small grin on his face. She cocked her head self-consciously and said, "You are staring."

Tony only nodded.

"Why?"

"Ziva David," Tony said quite seriously. "You playing air guitar is possibly one of the most adorable things I've ever seen in my entire life."

Ziva let out a snort of laughter. "You think _I'm_ adorable?"

"Yep," Tony said and then amended, "Deadly and adorable. Ooh, that could be your tagline." He turned down the music and said in his best announcer voice, "Ziva David: Deadly and adorable."

"Coming to a theater near you?" Ziva asked with a grin.

Tony pointed at her. "Now _that's_ a movie I would pay to see. And I could play the suave and debonair love interest," he waggled his eyebrows, "Anthony Dinozzo."

"I was thinking more along the lines of goofy sidekick Tony Dinutso."

"Oh, Miss David, how you _wound_ me!" Tony clutched at his heart and stared at her with disgust. "You're goofy sidekick? Tony Dinutso?"

Ziva grinned at him. "Yes."

"Believe me Ziva," Tony scoffed, "you want me as your Bond girl. Otherwise, you have to resort to McGee and there's just no working with that amateur."

"Maybe I prefer McGee as my Bond girl," Ziva said with a smirk.

Tony frowned. "But, what about me?"

Ziva raised her eyebrows and leaned across the seats so that her nose was only a few inches from Tony's. Smiling slyly, she whispered, "Jealous? Tony."

"Maybe," Tony answered, cocking his head. "Ze-vah."

Ziva let her tongue run across her bottom teeth. "Maybe you can be my Bond girl. Would that make you happy?"

"Yeah," Tony agreed and inched closer to Ziva. "I wouldn't want to have to kill my little Probie after all."

"That is very true," Ziva said softly. "He is very well trained now. I would hate to be the reason we have to get a new one."

"Ziva?"

"Hm?"

"Can we stop talking about Probie, please?"

"Well what would you like to talk about instead?"

"Who says I wanna talk at all?"

* * *

The next morning Ziva and Tony were awakened rather abruptly by the sounds of someone banging harshly on the hood of Ziva's mini. They had just untangled themselves from each other's grasps when the driver's side door was wrenched open violently. A moment later, McGee poked his head into the car and turned to stare at them.

"It smells like sex in here. Sex and," McGee sniffed the air and raised his eyebrows dramatically, "tequila?"

He had to duck as Tony chucked the empty tequila bottle at his head.

**Please Review**


End file.
